Its not been cut since just before Princess's wedding (beginning of Sept). I'm getting it cut and colourful. I have no idea what - as long as I don't look like Mrs McClusky, and don't have to use hair straighteners for it to look right, then I am pretty much happy for her to do what she likes.

Yay!

(Oh I've not forgotten the journal prompt btw - just got a bit distracted with house sorting, book, ANTM {shame} and {cough} WoW)

The vixen took one last sniff outside the den, inhaling the crisp autumn air, then quietly crept back inside to curl herself round her kits, and lay her head against her mate. Days passed, and winter fell. Red and golden leaves falling to the ground around them. The kits played in the frosty grass, running and tumbling with each other, and bounding to their father as he returned each day with their meat. Vixen lay contentedly watching her family.

It was midwinter when she appeared. Father came home as the day began to darken, and with him was a lone female. She looked wary, and scared. Father had found her wandering the forest, she had lost her pack and was alone. The vixen’s heart ached for the lone fox, and she returned to her den to create a space for her.

Night fell and the foxes retired for the night. The kits played with the new female, and the vixen watched, pleased to be sharing the love that her babies gave so easily. Days turned to weeks, and the female grew relaxed. She went hunting with Father as often as she could, she played with the kits, tried to help teach them to fend for themselves and to give Vixen space. Vixen enjoyed sharing her family, enjoyed giving love to another, but at the same time, she began to grow wary. The female was becoming a little too involved. Her family was beginning to slip away from her.

One night, as Vixen did her final check before coming in to the den, she heard her youngest kit whimper. As she hurried to soothe him, she heard the female talking in quiet tones, calming her baby. She entered the den as the female curled her body round the kits, and rested her head on Father.

At that moment, Vixen realised what had happened to her family. She had lost them to the female. Vixen softly left the den and went out into the snow covered forest. She found a quiet spot and lay down, her heart breaking, slowing, as she tried to sleep in the cold. She knew if she could sleep for long enough that the cold would take over and her heart would ache no more. The female would have won, but the pain would stop.

As Vixen was floating away, she felt a warmth against her cheek. A soft muzzle sniffed her and whimpered. Vixen struggled to open her eyes, and saw the brown eyes of youngest kit gazing back at her. The eyes were filled with love. The eyes were what she needed. Vixen stirred herself, forcing herself to move her frozen limbs, forcing her heart to start beating faster. She would not be beaten. There was pain, but more importantly, there was love. She rolled youngest kit over in the snow, playing with him and laughing.

A few more days passed, and Vixen bided her time. She continued to embrace the female, but she did not let her close. She knew the danger was still very real. That night, the snow fell long and heavy. The forest was buried beneath the snow, the scents hidden, the paths gone. Vixen knew that now was her chance. Father went to try to find some food, and Vixen found the female. She told her that middle kit was missing, and that she needed her help to find her. The female looked concerned, but Vixen wasn’t fooled. She told her that she had seen middle kit heading north through the trees, and asked the female to go and check for her whilst she cared for the other two kits.

The female sauntered into the forest in the direction Vixen had suggested. She looked calm and relaxed, safe in her place in the family. The snow began to fall again, and Vixen started to follow the female. She stayed back, far enough to go unnoticed, but near enough to see. Soon, the female reached the place that Vixen had pointed her towards. The ground began to slide beneath her feet. Vixen stood high on a rock, and watched as the snow covered ground gave way beneath the female’s feet, and she fell into the hidden crevice.

Vixen quietly returned to her den. Father came home with the food, sniffed for female but accepted his vixen explaining that the female had found her pack and returned home. Night fell once more, and Vixen looked outside her den. All was peaceful in the forest. She sighed and quietly stepped back inside, curled around her kits and lay her head on her mate’s chest. She had won.

Book Group Prompt

The idea is to write a story with the following criteria.
1. Someone get's attacked/killed
2. However that person turns the tables on their attacker/killer, how do they do it and what happens next?

I went shopping today. I have fabulous purple wedges which are a couple of inches smidge higher than they looked in the shop, but meh, I will learn to walk in them because they look fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine.

I was asked what I bought and announced "Royal purple open toe sling back wedges" (they look paler in the pic). I have no idea when I became a girl who could describe shoes like that. The love of shoes has been a gradual process.

But love it is.

I don't often wear the ones I love due to walking like bambi and/or having to chase small children, but shoes are like corsets for me. They make me feel feminine and powerful and ME. It doesn't have to be shoes though, a pair of new rock boots would make me feel all strong and rargh. Flip flops make me feel all calm and laid back.

Ironically, as soon as I can, shoes come off and I am bare foot if at all possible (as is demonstrated by my constantly filthy feet regardless of how many baths I have).

You list your goals, aspirations, and it tells you how many other people have the same aims. You can click on your goal and it takes you to the posts with people talking about how they have been working towards those goals.

It is so nice reading other people who feel the same as you. Those who want the same things, and those who have actually achieved them

I find these hard. I don't know what tickles my fancy. What is my fancy anyway, and why do I need it to be tickled??

I guess games.

I am not a gamer. I don't have enough attention span to be perfectly honest, but when I do get into one, I love it. I tend to get a smidge to passionate though, so if it is a console games, handsets are launched across the room.

I have my CBT course starting soon. I hope through that I will be able to rewire my thinking a bit, stop overanalysing, stop catastrophising (great word), and generally like me a bit. I am starting to get there with the whole liking me thing. Mainly since being painfully honest with friends about how I see myself. People are so lovely.

I plan to move house. Not much choice in that matter as the babies won't all fit in our current place when Strawb goes into a proper cot. B and the Dude need separating asap as they are killing each other. I want somewhere with 3 bedrooms, that will let me decorate whenever the hell I feel like it, with a garden. Not much to ask is it?

I would like my marriage settled. Not necessarily back how it was, or even a traditional set up, but settled.

I have various other hopes and plans for my children, but this is about me. So, sanity, new home, and happiness. Not much to ask is it?

Strawberry woke around 6.30am, her temp was lower (but still not down properly) following a fever the night before. She alternated between feeding and grinning at me, gurgling for the next hour. The Dude and B woke at about 7.30am and we all went downstairs.

Some of us may have dozed off a little on the sofa.

Internet was still not co-operating so I checked a few things on my phone {worries what phone bill will be like}.

Fed small children (toast and a smoothie thing for the tiny one). Went to get dressed and clean, came down to "Muuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuum Emrys has had the eggs again!".

He had cracked six into a bowl. He then poured them down the sink as he was worried I would be cross. Was more cross at wasting the bloody eggs - would've scrambled them or something.

Went to smother Strawb in suncream following fears I'd boiled her on Thursday. Returned to kitchen to find Dude (who had been playing outside) covering a puddle of squash with the step, and closing the freezer for the ice lolly he had made himself.

Yelled a bit.

Took both the big two to suncream and dress them and marched them to the car. No, I had no idea where we were going other than "out". In the gap with getting dressed they hit and kicked each other. I dared to leave the room to get the nappy bag sorted and Dude bit B because she wouldn't let him play with the baby.

Gave the "The baby is not a toy" speech. Again.

Took them to a car wash. All were fascinated by the brushes.

Text Mum to see if she was about.

Took them to the bank (I know how to spoil kids).

Was on the way to get petrol when I got a text from a friend asking if we fancied meeting her for coffee. Many road works later we arrived in Boscombe.

Had a lovely lunch (BRT and latte) and chat, then went to buy purple dye (Unfortunate Incident with banana and baby clothes... she is having some purple tie dye going on now) and new washing line props (yes, the Dude...).

Tried to track down mum but she was out again.

Went to drop off some bits to Man and Lisa, and had a quick drink and a chat there. Then headed over to Psycho's for a bit.

Gathered her children up from the community fete and headed to the shop for wine and biscuits. Returned to meet her at her place, and went to have biscuits and coffee in the garden. I am no longer allowed biscuits in the house as I can't be trusted with crumbs.

Let kids play for a while. Strawb was well loved and entertained by all.

More chat, a visit and a small glass of wine with Sue too.

Then headed over to see Linz for a bit.

Decided with Mum we'd give up and meet on Sunday.

Quick phone call with Boy.

Lots more chat whilst children played together, played with hose, played with Dingo.

Finally headed home with a fresh bottle of wine (having left the original at Psycho's) and three exhausted children.

I swear singing is better than any anti.depressant on the market. Putting kids to bed, putting in earphones and bouncing round singing at the top of my lungs always makes me really happy! Ok an ipod on mix sometimes throws up "meaningful" song orders but just roll with it. Sometimes random really IS just random.